Who am I?
by KHwhitelion
Summary: “I’m sorry,” the younger vulcan stated, unable to hide the twisted pleasure in his voice, “but there can only be one Spock in this timeline.” Alternate final scene between young and old Spock....Heroes crossover?


**Alright! I've been wanting to write this down ever since I saw the new Star Trek movie….though I'm really surprised no one else has done something like this before me….**

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In all his 170 years of life, Spock never once thought he would be in the position he was now. Old, alone….and trapped in a parallel universe to the one he once called home, nearly 100 years in the past, with no hope of returning.

Nor did he expect to be standing, face to face and having a conversation with his younger, though _alternate_—due to the horrible changes inflicted in the timeline by the romulan, Nero—self. It was all quite fascinating; true, he had been to the past before in his days as a first officer, but not once had it been during a time period in his lifetime. No….this was far more interesting….far more—dare he admit it—exciting. To be talking to one's self in a younger form, able to offer advice and point them in the right direction towards their future, was a privilege only a rare few ever experienced.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, the old vulcan's eyes fell on the wrinkle-free face of the other Spock. He was so young—so innocent and confused. Unsure whether he was vulcan or human, or perhaps a combination of the two. And more than uncertain about his actions in the future. Even without outward display; the older Spock could clearly see the turmoil of emotions blazing in the eyes of his younger self. He wanted answers, that much was obvious. And as his future counterpart, Spock was obliged to give them to him.

"You should enlist in Starfleet," he started, the sureness in his voice startling the younger vulcan, "and enroll for a position on the Enterprise as first officer." The words were clear, flawless; voicing the thoughts that had filled his own mind when he was young, and encouraged him to defy his planet's tradition and become the first vulcan in the history of starflee—

"No."

Spock raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback at his younger self's response.

"With Vulcan possessing only so few survivors," the other Spock continued, hastening his words so as not to be interrupted, "it is my duty to help establish a colony and assist with the repopulation of my race."

Inwardly, the older vulcan shook his head, nearly laughing at his other self, with familiar amusement. Over 140 years ago, he knew he, too, would have made a reply very similar to that, if not exact. After all, it was the logical thing to do. But over a century and a half spent out in the depths of space had long since taught him that logic was not always the right decision….not always the right path to choose.

At least, not alone.

Eyes still locked with the younger Spock, he allowed the faintest trace of a half-smile to grace his lips, "ah, but you can be in two places at once." He reminded him, subtly gesturing to himself as his other's replacement for assisting with the new Vulcan. Granted, he was a little old for the job, but unlike his younger self, the aging vulcan did not have his entire life to live out. He _had_ joined Starfleet, _had_ became a first officer….and he'd already 'boldly gone where no man had gone before.' But this younger—heck, he'd say it—more _naïve_ version of himself had had only a taste of what was in store for him; to spend the next hundred years of his life bound to his new planet would be such a waste. As such, it was _his_ duty, not that of his younger counterpart's, to—

"No."

And _there_ was that word again.

He sighed, uncaring if the other Spock witnessed any emotional display of his. "Look," He began after a moment, "I am well aware you feel a responsibility to your people, as you should, but you have yet to live your life and re—"

He was unable to finish his train of thought, a sharp but heavy pressure suddenly squeezing against his neck. Gasping, his hands shot up, trying to pry away at the invisible force now blocking his wind pipes. Eyes wide with shock, the older vulcan threw a desparate glance at the younger Spock, a strained, "help" barely passing through his lips….

….but when his eyes fell yet again on his other self, all words died on his tongue. Still a few feet away, the young vulcan stood, his right arm up and hand clenched—its direction, the older Spock realized with rising panic, directly aimed at his rapidly closing throat. The emotionless mask the young Spock usually adorned had almost dissipated completely, his charcoal pupils lighting up with venomous hunger—the likes of which the suffocating vulcan had never before seen….not even amongst the most ruthless klingons. Nor had he seen such a vile, toothy grin spreading its way across the younger Spock's face. As each gasp of air became harder and harder to swallow, the older vulcan realized that the arm poised at him began to rise slowly….and _his_ breath-deprived body along with it.

"I'm sorry," the younger vulcan stated, unable to hide the twisted pleasure in his voice, "but there can only be one Spock in this timeline." He began nonchalantly walking forward; the aged vulcan's heart pounding against its ribcage confinement. With each stride, the older Spock felt a little more air leave him—black spots appearing before his eyes. Nevertheless, he forced himself to stay conscience, determined to learn just who or what this….this _monster_ was.

One thing was for certain, however. That man was not his younger self. It was impossible. Even with Nero's interference….such a change in character simply did not happen….

….nor did _he_—or any vulcan, for that matter—possess the kind of power the younger man was using against him.

"W-who are you….?" The older man choked, bits of blood spurting from his mouth "w-what are you d-doing?"

The younger Spock raised an eyebrow, something sinister dancing in his soulless eyes. "I told you," he reiterated, lifting his other hand, "only one Spock can exist in this timeline." That hand curled into a point, "and as your presence here could cause some…. _trouble_ on my part, looks like it's gonna have to be _me_."

Abruptly, a searing pain pierced the older vulcan's skull, and he let out a blood-curdling screech, thick emerald liquid trickling down the sides of his head….

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Rising to his feet, a young man in an azure tunic casually wiped the blood coating his hands with his pant leg. His nose wrinkled with disgust at the gooey texture lodged between his fingernails, no doubt going to take some time to properly remove. It was an unusual color—green blood—the likes of which he had only seen up close and personal one other time….and even then, the situation had been just as messy as it was now.

Though there remained only one distinct wound—a clear slicing of the cranium—the pool of blood surrounding it was so massive it appeared far worse than that. Of course, he had just removed the brain from inside the skull, so in retrospect, 'worse' applied quite well here. To the common eye, at least. To _him_, however, it was nothing new; he'd been killing like this for a good 200 years now. And though he had yet to lose his touch, the process as a whole _was_ becoming a bit boring.

It was also becoming a necessity.

After living so long, he had had to adopt new identities as time went on; it was no longer an issue if they had something he wanted or not. It was either kill, or be discovered, and he certainly was not about to let the second of those two options happen any time soon.

That was why he had done away with the old man at his feet….

….and why he had killed the other, _younger_ one eariler.

"Who am_ I_?" He asked, repeating the deceased's previous question. He let out a moan, his bones rearranging themselves in his body to once more resemble a young, dark-haired and pointy-eared vulcan, "I'm _SYLAR_."

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**Anyone see that coming? I mean, maybe it was just me, but the entire time I was watching that movie, I didn't see a young Spock; I saw SYLAR. Granted, I did just watch 'Heroes' the morning before….but everything about him, the way he looked (obviously) the way he sounded….it was SYLAR I tell you!! I kept waiting for the moment where he would suddenly do a complete character change and slice open someone's head. Which is why I wrote this alternate scene. Poor old Spock! I really didn't want to kill him, but it was just so fitting! Plus, this was the perfect place for young Spock to go all 'SYLAR' on him.**

**I know the dialogue isn't exact, but hey! I only saw this movie once, so I had to make the best of it!**

**Please review! I totally want to know what you all thought of this crazy idea XD**


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